Burning Desire
by citycherry
Summary: Edward, 27, is a famous photographer living in New York City. He is looking for an assistant after his quit. Bella, 19, also interested in photography, hears about an opening for the job. Edward hires her, and begins to have strong feelings for her. A lusty affair begins. All is going well, until Edward's wife tells him she's pregnant.


**Burning Desire**

**This was originally a one shot but I got very into it so I'm thinking I wanna continue. It's my very first fanfic so I'm not very experienced. All mistakes are mine alone. I will try to update once a week but I can't say a certain day because I never know when I'll get around to it. Oh, and if you enjoy, you should let me know. xx**

**Chapter Overlook:** Bella goes to the job interview, but what happens from there?

**Rating:** M. This is a story about passion and lust so lemons are a definite.

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I do not own Twilight or the characters. Stephenie Meyer is the rightful owner.

**Inspiration:** This story is inspired by the song, "Burning Desire" written by the talented and inspirational Lana Del Rey.

* * *

**Bella POV-**

"Four twenty-seven, please." I handed the cashier the card in my hand.

I felt terrible for using the money Charlie sent me, on a four dollar coffee, but I needed caffeine to function today. Starbucks was overflowing and after being in line for well over thirty minutes, I was becoming anxious. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, especially coming from a big city myself. Sighing, I checked the time on my phone. Seven forty. I had twenty minutes to get there. Biting my lip, I looked outside. There were people running, walking, driving cars, biking, sitting, staring. There were people on phones, people talking to the people next to them, people smiling, frowning, crying, and laughing. Everything happened so fast here and everything was overwhelming. I_ had_ wanted this after all, but sometimes New York definitely seemed like it was more than I had bargained for. Smiling at the woman next to me, I tapped my fingers on the counter and sucked in a deep breath. Inside my body, it felt like a million little butterflies were being released.

"Nervous?" I almost jumped when the woman spoke. At first I wasn't sure she was even talking to me. I looked at my surroundings, just to make sure.

It wouldn't be the first time I'd mistaken something like that.

"Yeah." I nodded. "I have a job interview."

She raised her eyebrows almost as to say, _Been there, done that._ "Well good luck."

I just responded with another smile.

Handing me my latte, the cashier also wished me good luck, making me feel a little better. She also told me that today was her first day.

"Well, I wouldn't have guessed," I truthfully muttered.

As I walked down the street, I tried to avoid making any eye contact. Me being so nervous, I didn't want anyone to think I was staring at them weird. Which was a very easy thing to do in New York. Back in Seattle, things weren't that much different, but the people were. I thought about trying to catch a cab, just to avoid having to worry about looking at people. I needed sunglasses. Just another thing to add to the list of things I needed. Right after a job. As I walked, I tried to get a look at myself through the glass on the windows. I wanted to try and get there early to check my hair and makeup, but with all the stoplights, I would be lucky if I got there two minutes before my interview started. A guy with long, blonde hair sat on the corner holding up a "Need money" sign, and whistled at me as I pulled the top my shirt to cover my breasts better. Feeling embarrassed and disgusted, I tried not to turn my head. I didn't exactly know what to wear to photographer's assistant interview, so I just went for the jeans, with a tank top look. Approaching the large, stone building, my stomach fluttered even more. And I had to remind myself that I loved photography and that's why I was here in the first place. To pursue my dream of becoming a world-known photographer. Being an assistant kinda horrified me. All the movies made it seem like the worst job in the world, but at least I wasn't starting on a street corner or on a pole. That made me remember Rose. I forgot to call her this morning to see if she was home. Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I grabbed the handle of the heavy door, and opened it. Stepping inside, It felt much cooler. Already at nearly eight in the morning, the humidity was horrible, and to top it all off, it was mid-July.

Walking over to the little brown desk, I sipped my coffee and dialed Rose's number. A tiny, blonde girl who, I assumed was the receptionist was also talking to someone over the phone about something that I had no idea about. When she noticed me, she held her index finger up in my direction. As I waited for Rose to pick up, I looked at the time on the digital clock behind the girl, that hung on the wall. I still had two minutes to check my hair and makeup. Pointing to the restroom, to let her know where I was going, she gave me a polite smile and nodded.

"Hello, this is Rose. Chances are I'm either shopping for slut wear or fucking your mom. Bye."_ Nice one, Rose._ _I'm sure your parents love to hear that when they call._

Sighing, I put the phone back into my pocket. She couldn't take care of herself, and that bothered me. She needed someone to be with her twenty-four seven. Many times I thought about ending our friendship, because she was just too much to handle. But those days were gone and now it was too late. I loved her just like a little sister, and I wanted to protect her. Trying to forget everything and just focus of the reason I was here, I looked into the mirror and adjusted the bobby pin in my hair. I didn't really know what to do with my hair this morning so I just dried it and put in some frizz control serum. Much to my amazement, it actually looked okay. Adjusting my shirt, so that it wasn't hanging so low, I walked out of the bathroom and back to the front desk.

"Good Morning! Here for the assistant job?" The girl, who couldn't have been much older than me, continued to smile.

"Yeah...I am."

I read her name tag, _Jessica_. I always hated that name. All the Jessica's I'd always known were bitches. She picked up the phone and told someone I was coming.

"Alright, I think he's ready for you."

I nodded.

"Just take the elevator to the studio upstairs." She pointed to the ceiling.

"Okay, thank you."

I started toward the elevator and I could feel my knees shake. I couldn't believe I was about to meet Edward Cullen. Pressing the 2nd button, I tried to remember what Charlie, my father had told me._ I'm an amazing photographer and anyone would be lucky to have me as an assistant. Not only was I hard-working, but I was also smart._

Every magazine out today, had worked with him. He could do anything from GQ to National Geographic. Seriously intimidating. Coming to a stop, the elevator doors slid open, and I slowly stepped out, wishing I could just disappear. This was a studio alright. The walls were brick, and there were probably hundreds of lights. All kinds of stands, and props, and decorations filled the room. Painting after painting hung on the walls, and there were five different screens. A photographer's heaven. And there he was. Edward Cullen, photographer for Maxim, GQ, Vogue, and pretty much any magazine that was out right now, standing in front of me. Starstruck was an understatement.

* * *

**Edward POV-**

I read her name on the paper that I held in front of me.

Isabella Swan. Nineteen, from Seattle, and an inspiring photographer. And the first one today.

I had been in search for a new assistant for over a month now, and still had no luck. Everyone I had met, had something wrong with them. Or came across the wrong way. I was becoming restless. Ever since Eric quit, it was a lot harder to get things done. Especially the traveling shit. That was brutal. Sighing, I sat down in my leather chair and propped my feet on the desk. I played with my wedding ring and stared out of the window.

When I had finally gotten comfortable, Jessica called me and let me know Isabella was on her way up.

I didn't need a female assistant. Call me Mr. 1950's but I needed someone to travel with, someone who was strong enough to carry things, someone who wouldn't bitch and complain, and someone who wasn't afraid of breaking a nail. Which was nearly impossible to find in a woman here in New York. After a few moments of silence, I heard the elevator ding and someone step out. Getting my feet off my desk, I stood up.

She didn't say anything right away, which was strange. She just stood there staring at the space, taking it all in. She looked impressed. She couldn't have been taller than 5'6 at the most. She had long, dark, curly hair that fell around her shoulders. She was fit, but she also had some curves. And her legs went on for miles. She wore a pair of tight fitted skinny jeans, and a dark blue tank top.

Isabella was..._wow_.

Coming to my senses, and feeling like a total creep, I noticed her focus was on me now.

_ Fuck her eyes were so green._

Clearing my throat, I walked from where I was standing, a little closer to her and held my hand out.

"I'm Edward Cullen, pleasure to meet you."

She smiled, revealing her dimples.

"I'm Isabella, you too."

Her voice wasn't very low, but it definitely wasn't high, another thing I didn't see coming. I stepped back a bit and motioned to my desk, still in shock. I didn't know what I had expected, but it certainly wasn't _this._

As we walked, I saw her bite her lip. She was nervous.

"You can just sit there if you like, I'm not used to having other people around my desk."

She slowly walked over to my leather chair and sat. I watched to see if she'd cross her legs. She did.

I stood casually up against the wall, holding the paper.

"Isabella Swan, correct?" I felt dumb after asking that. She had just told me her name.

"Yes."

I continued, "You're nineteen, and grew up in Seattle."

She nodded.

"So, have you ever worked before?" Isabella adjusted in the seat.

"Um, not really. My father owns a restaurant and I used to help out there. But that's not really a job, I suppose."

I put down the paper.

"You like photography?" _Dammit. Of course she liked photography. That's why she's here._ A tiny smile appeared.

"Yeah, I love it actually. That's what I eventually want to be..a photographer."

I tried my best to smile back. "Okay, let me show you around, then."

I showed her the camera first. I had a hundred others but I showed her my favorite.

"So, like I read that you take a certain camera to every shoot that you do."

_She read about me?_

"Is that true?," she continued.

I felt like an idiot as I stood there with my mouth parted. "Uhm, yeah I do.."

She stared at it.

"Do you want to try it?" _Oh my god. What was I doing? Please say no._

"Sure."

I handed it to her, not knowing what was happening to me. When she took it, she looked unsure. "You can take a picture of anything." Isabella brought the camera to her eyes and aimed for my desk.

"Kay."

Suddenly embarrassed at how messy it was, I ran my hand through my hair and put my other on my waist. When she turned around, facing me again, she smiled. She looked like she didn't know what to say.

"Thanks.." She handed it back to me.

When she gave it to me, I got a whiff of her._ Fuck she smelt good. It was like coconuts mixed with vanilla._ I coughed a bit. "No problem...So, do you enjoy traveling, or rather, would it be an issue for you to travel a lot?"

Her eyes met mine, once again.

"I haven't traveled much, but I am interested in traveling. I don't go to school or anything, so no, it wouldn't be an issue."

I let my gaze drop to the floor. "That's good. I love traveling so, if you get the job that's something that would be occurring a lot."

She nodded. "That's no problem."

I hadn't noticed but we almost too close. I stepped back, worried that she noticed that as well.

"Cool, well then let me explain what I expect from an assistant." I motioned for her to sit in the chair again. "I don't drink coffee, so I guess I'll just start off by saying that."

She grinned.

"So yeah, I guess you don't have to worry about that. You don't have to be here everyday, only when I'm here obviously. Umm..basically, you'll be responsible for handing me things on shoots, making sure I remember everything, and helping me whenever needed. As far as pay goes, we'll start off at around $300 an hour, whenever you work. Photo shoots can last anywhere from an hour to fifteen hours, depending on the job. I do a lot of night shoots, so that's also something to consider. On average I do about four photo shoots a week, sometimes less, sometimes more. So, yeah, I think that's it. Any questions?"

Isabella stood up and shook her head. "Nope, I got it."

I nodded as I held my hand out again. I was shocked by how velvety her hand felt. The list of the unexpected just kept getting larger and larger.

"I'll um, let you know if you get the job."

She dropped her hand from mine.

"Okay, sounds good. It was nice meeting you."

_Was it? Because I wasn't sure._ "Yeah you too. I'll talk to you soon."

She gave me one last grin, and walked towards the elevator. What was _that_? Startling me, my phone rang. It was Jessica.

"Edward, Mike Welch is on his way up."

I tried to act normal again but something felt off. I knew my heart shouldn't be beating this fast.

* * *

**Bella POV-**

"Oh my god! Do you think you'll get the job?"

My best friend, Rose, sat on the other end of my bed.

"I don't think so. I don't even know. It was so awkward and by the end he just looked annoyed with me. I was literally counting the seconds until I could leave. I just don't know what I'm going to do. I've been in New York for three months and still haven't found a job. My dad can't keep paying for everything!"

I sighed and flipped the channel. Nothing was on.

"Bella, I think you're just overreacting. You worry way too much. And like I've told you for three months, come work with me. It's really not that-"

"No! Rose, I will not sell my body to get money. I'd much rather be homeless. I don't think you understand how much I worry about you. And your parents. Your mom calls here every day, asking if you're still alive because you won't answer their calls."

She rolled her eyes and got off the bed. "I'm getting more wine. But I'm thinking we need something stronger. You need to get drunk and have fun for once."

I jumped when I heard my phone ring. It was Charlie. I got off the bed and answered. "Hey dad."

I heard him cough. "Hey Bells. Get the job?"

I started pacing around my room. "I don't know..I don't think he seemed interested. I felt like the energy was all wrong. He was nice, but he's Edward Cullen. He makes everyone feel intimidated because he's just that good of a photographer."

"I'm sure you're just stressing yourself out. No matter what, everything will be fine. Don't worry about money. I've got-"

I interrupted, "Dad, no. I feel terrible having to still live off you. I'm nineteen for god's sake. Not twelve. I know you and Sue are having a hard time, and I don't want to add to the problem. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm not going to let you guys go into debt all because of me."

I held out my hand as Rose came back into the room and grabbed the very full glass.

"Alright, Bells, do what you gotta do, but I promise you, everything is fine. It's not like you are asking money to go buy that Starbucks stuff or whatever."

"Right."

Sipping my wine, and talking to my dad, I felt more relaxed. Tomorrow, I'd start looking for other jobs in case this one didn't work out and everything _would_ be okay.

"Alright dad, I'll call you when I find out anything."

I didn't even need to see him to know that he was smiling. We were that close.

"Okay, Bells. Just keep your old man posted."

"I always do, goodnight."

After I hung up, I sat back down on my bed as Rose put in a movie.

"So was he hot?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "What are you talking about?"

She smiled. "That would be sexy, you know."

"No, I don't know. What?"

She laughed before she said it. "Sleeping with the boss."

I picked up the pillow laying next to me and threw it at her.

"Rose, you may be a slut, but I'm sure as hell not." _And that was for sure._


End file.
